


Hell on Earth

by extra_Mt



Series: One-shots [6]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: Angst and Smut, Author claims it has a happy ending, F/F, Gratuitous Smut, Many readers like to disagree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-04 14:05:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18606046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extra_Mt/pseuds/extra_Mt
Summary: Mary's internal war against the devil ends after many years. Lana wants to be happy for her, but part of her misses the devil.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HaHa. My notorious bananun fic is here.

_**"When the sun has set, no candle can replace it."** _

_**― George R.R. Martin** _

... 

"Mary..."

A quite sigh echoed in the dark bedroom, followed by a groan, and then another.

"Come on, Lana. Let it go." The husky voice of Mary whispered seductively in Lana's ear. 

They had been making love for hours now. With Lana's legs wrapped around her waist, Mary let her ride her fingers. She dug her nails into the brunette's hips, and it only spurred Lana to rock her hips even harder.

"Ugh..." Lana let out a sob, feeling another onset of orgasm threatening burst in her body.

She forgot how many times she'd come already. In fact, it was useless to try counting; she gave that up years ago, when they started to have an intimate relationship. The blonde never seemed to be satisfied no matter how much she consumed Lana's body, and her relentless hands and mouth usually never stopped until the brunette begged for mercy sobbing.

Burying her face in the golden hair, the brunette whimpered as Mary gave her a harsh bite on her collarbone. The delicious pain caused her body to jolt violently, and the name of the blonde spilled as a strong orgasm washed over her body.

Mary slowed her fingers, still deep inside the journalist, but didn't stop even after the legs around her had stopped trembling. 

Her mouth moved from the neck to the lips of Lana, tracing the bottom lip with her tongue. Completely capturing her lips with her own, she regained the speed of her fingers yet again, drawing out a piteous whimper from the brunette woman.

"Mary, please... Please, I can't." 

Tears she didn't intend to shed rolled down her rosy cheeks, and Lana forced their bodies to separate.

Lying down on her side, the brunette curled up her body, which was still shaking. With her dozy mind, she lifted her head to look at the alarm clock by the bed.

"For Christ's sake, Mary. I told you I had to wake up early tomorrow. Now I only have four hours."

Resting her head on the pillow, Lana exhaled sharply. Her chest was heaving, and the remnant of her arousal was still strongly present as she rubbed her thighs together.

The blonde brought the blankets to cover their bodies and hummed, content with the feeling of warmth pressed to her front.

"It's today already," Mary whispered in the dark hair. "And I have to leave the house earlier than you. I have to attend an exorcism in Pittsburgh."

"Whatever you say. You still get to sleep in the car. It's not like you're driving."

The blonde giggled, and playfully bit Lana's earlobe. "That's right. I could've fucked you for a couple more hours, then."

Lana squirmed under the sheets at the taunting remark. It was incredible how easily the nun could turn her on. With only simple words or a glance, and her underbelly burned with irrefutable desire under any circumstances.

"Fuck, Mary. Let me sleep."

"Whatever you say, princess banana."

The blonde smirked, and planted a sweet kiss on the back of her neck. Her body was soon taken over by the fatigue of long hours of intimacy, and she allowed herself to close her gleaming blue eyes. 

For the next several hours until the sun-up, their breathing would be the only sounds heard in the room.

... 

Lana sat at her working desk after finishing dinner by herself. The room was clouded with cigarette smoke, while the nimble fingers of the journalist danced on her typewriter. 

It had been an extra-productive day for her; she didn't have much to do besides writing without a certain nun to interrupt her work.

When she had woken up that morning, the blonde had already left. Lana hated to admit it, but it made her quite sad not to be able to see the nun's face or hear her raspy voice for hours. 

Who knew she could be so clingy? It was never like this when she was with Wendy or any of her exes. The blonde was truly like a drug, one that Lana couldn't live without.

She let out a loud sigh, and lit another cigarette. The sound of a car pulling over on the street reached her ears, and the brown eyes caught the sight of the nun outside the window. 

Lana smiled as the door of the house slowly opened and shut a moment later.

She kept working while the footsteps got closer and closer behind her. The door of her office creaked open, and the owner of the footsteps gently wrapped her arms around Lana's neck, resting her chin on her shoulder. A huge smile appeared on Lana's face, and she finally turned around to see the blonde.

It was quite apparent that Mary was exhausted; the usual glow in her eyes was missing, and her skin looked somehow less translucent. 

The brown eyes observed every feature of the nun, before settling on the thing in her hands.

"I thought we had two months until our anniversary." Lana raised her eyebrows at the small bouquet of pink roses.

Mary smiled softly. "I know, but this is a special day."

She held out her arms, offering the bouquet to the brunette, who took it gratefully. Mary knelt down in front of Lana, and rested her hands on the journalist's thighs.

Lana's pristine brows were knotted together in confusion. It looked like the blonde was going to propose or something. Her heartbeat started to drum in her ears as she tightened her grip around the flowers.

The baby blue eyes bored into the brown ones, and Mary took in a breath.

"Today, we performed an exorcism on a young boy," she said gently. "And I don't know how it happened, but it worked on both him and me."

The brunette formed a puzzled frown, which contrasted the big grin of the younger woman. "What are you saying?" Lana asked semi-irritated.

"I'm free," Mary leaned into the journalist's body in excitement. "I'm no longer controlled by the devil, Lana."

... 

If Lana had been skeptical about Mary's words before, she wasn't any more. Not now that there were hands on Lana's naked body. 

They were having sex alright, but the way the blonde touched and kissed her proved that it wasn't the same Mary that had fucked her to oblivion the night before. Every touch was tentative, and it took the brunette longer than usual to climax.

"Mary, I'm close..." she breathed out the words.

The blonde hummed in response, her lips planting gentle kisses on Lana's neck. Her mouth moved to the plump lips of the older woman, while her fingers slowly coaxed her to spill over the edge. She hissed in pain when Lana's nails dug into her shoulders, but didn't falter her ministration. 

Feeling the body spasm underneath her, Mary raised her face to look at the woman. Her eyes were shut close, lips slightly parted, and Mary couldn't believe how beautiful she was as she came undone.

Lana let out a quiet whimper as her muscles contracted around Mary's fingers. She arched her back, hips still rocking to ride out her orgasm.

"God, you are so beautiful."

The brunette heard Mary whisper with admiration in her voice. She smiled weakly as the blonde pressed her lips to hers gently.

"I love you," the blonde whispered.

The brown eyes faltered at the confession; as much as they loved each other, neither of them easily spoke the words. 

Lana gently pushed a strand of blonde hair from the nun's forehead. 

"I love you, too, Mary," she confessed. 

Even after her breathing had become even, she still could feel the slim fingers buried inside her, making her squirm with another wave of arousal.

Mary saw this as discomfort, and pulled her fingers out of her gently. Her body hit the mattress with a soft thud, and the blonde smiled at her lover next to her.

The older woman smiled back, but truth to be told; she'd expected Mary to continue. Ever since their relationship had come to full blossom, it was their normal to fuck more than once at a time. Lana would always beg the blonde to stop after her second or third orgasm, but both of them knew the brunette absolutely loved to be fucked until she couldn't speak.

So Lana furrowed her brows rather unsatisfied. Her body jerked involuntarily, asking for more delicious torture. 

But she had to keep in mind that the woman, who nuzzled into the brunette's neck, wasn't exactly the same person. 

This was the sister Mary Eunice that the journalist had met at Briarcliff. The naïve young woman, who blushed scarlet at the mere mention of undergarment.

Lana closed her eyes and kissed the top of Mary's head, gently stroking the blonde hair.

"Was this your first time?"

The blonde lifted her head to look at the older woman, puzzled by what on earth she meant by that. 

"I've made love to you plenty before," Mary answered innocently.

Lana let out a small chuckle. "I know, but I assume you were a virgin before -"

"Before I was possessed?"

The brunette nodded.

"Yes, I was."

"So it was your first time, then." Lana smiled mischievously, which caused some redness on Mary's cheeks.

The blonde wrapped her arms around Lana's waist, and buried her face into the dark hair spread across the pillows. The warmth of the brunette's body was comforting, even when it was 90 degrees outside. She breathed in the unique scent of Lana, and planted a sweet kiss on her neck.

When she had discovered that the voice in her had gone that afternoon, she was somewhat terrified. 

The devil and the girl had lived together in the same body for almost five years; God knows all the horrendous things the devil made her do. 

She was happy, yes, but her ability to see through things and people had disappeared along with the devil. She was back to her old self, who was scared of the world's cruelty, with all the memory of her past sins intact in her brain.

Things would change for certain; she was no longer powerful. If the world would come to crash her again, she sincerely hoped Lana would be the only thing that would never change in her life.

... 

Perhaps life wasn't such a bad idea after all. The first day without the devil went smoothly unlike Mary had feared. Her work as a mother superior was surely burdensome, but nothing she couldn't handle without the help of the evil.

She knelt down and rested her elbows on the mattress, her knuckles pressed to her forehead. 

The devil had pretended to pray whenever necessary, but never meant it. It felt somewhat overwhelming to be able to speak to God from the bottom of her heart again.

Strings of prayers came out between her lips, which were no longer tainted with Ravish me Red. 

She couldn't tell how long she'd been praying, before the sound of high heels clicking on the wooden floor of the living room stopped her.

The brunette stormed into the bedroom, exhaling the toxic smoke of cigarette furiously. 

"I swear to fucking Jesus Christ I'm going to cut their balls off if they try to -"

The brown eyes spotted the younger woman kneeling by the bed, and her eager to ramble completely diminished in an instant. A good deal of shock denied her to tear her eyes off the blonde as she walked to Lana.

"What happened?" Mary questioned, her hand caressing Lana's upper arm to offer comfort.

"Um, nothing...just a bunch of stupid old men." The brunette looked down. The fury seemed to have been wiped away by what she had just witnessed. "Were- were you praying?"

The nun gave her a nod. "I hadn't done it in years. It feels really nice." Her eyes glowed like those of a child's. "Do you want to pray with me?"

Lana's eyes went wide, and she shook her head quickly, though attempting not to look so desperate. 

"No, I'm good. I'm just going to have dinner."

Mary nodded. "I made the chicken soup you like. It's in the fridge."

A word of appreciation was uttered, and the journalist swiftly walked back to the kitchen. She let out sigh in front of the microwave as soon as the voice of the nun started to chant prayers again. 

So the devil is truly gone.

... 

As far as Lana could see, the blonde was doing everything she could to forget about the devil. Her lingerie was thrown away. A cross was hung on the wall of their bedroom. Body wash and hair products were replaced with new ones that had different scents.

Everything had been changed, and Lana felt an inexplicable feeling in her guts. It was as if she was living with a completely different person. Every time the nun passed by, Lana's heart jumped at the unfamiliar scent. 

She couldn't help but feel like she was cheating on Mary, the one that she had loved for five years. It felt like Mary was trying to forget those five years of their lives.

"I can't believe you're throwing this away," Lana said quietly with black lacy lingerie in her hand.

That one had a history; it was the first lingerie that Lana had bought for the blonde. The black fabric made a stunning contrast to the alabaster skin of the blonde, and it never failed to turn the older woman on. It was a symbol of their intimacy and something more. Lana particularly liked the way it peeked from under the nun's habit.

"We can get a new one just like that," Mary awkwardly answered.

"But I like this one, Mary," the brunette said. "Will you wear it, before you toss it?"

The blonde bit her lip, her face becoming more flushed by second. She couldn't say no; how could she when the journalist looked at her with such puppy eyes? She sighed, and brought her hands to the back of her pink dress to unzip it.

Had she been into shy girls, the expression of Mary would've been a huge turn on for Lana. But the redness on the blonde's cheeks was simply something unfamiliar to the journalist, and she didn't know what to do with that. 

The pair of chocolate eyes observed every movement of the nun as she changed into the lingerie in front of her.

Lana's chest heaved at the sight. Except for the way Mary squirmed under her stare, there was nothing different about the blonde. Every curve and freckle was exactly how the brunette remembered. 

And for a moment, Lana allowed herself to forget about the absence of the devil, and decided to enjoy what might as well be her last meal of sort.

"You..." Lana breathed out. 

Once the gap between them was closed by her, she reached Mary's rear and squeezed her butt cheek.

A gasp of surprise and anticipation came out of the blonde's mouth, and the brunette smirked. Trailing Mary's earlobe with her skillful tongue, the shorter woman whispered in her ear, "You are so goddamn hot. I just want to fuck you all night long."

The nun's lithe body shivered at the confession, and she let out a pathetic whimper. But both knew it wasn't a protest. 

Lana's hands held the blonde firmly by the hips. She pushed Mary on the mattress rather forcefully, earning a gasp from the blonde.

It was quite a sight; the golden hair spread across the bedsheet like a halo, and the baby blue eyes bashfully looked back at the brown ones. 

Lana sat herself between the long white legs, not caring to see the embarrassment of the younger woman. Her dexterous fingers almost ripped the underwear off the nun's body. 

Lying down on her stomach, the brunette dug her nails into her hips, bringing the body closer to her face. Her mouth gave no warning whatsoever, before aggressively attacking Mary's core.

The blonde gasped loudly, her back arching from the mattress. Slender fingers sneaked into the brunette hair as she tried her hardest to stay quiet. 

It felt odd to hear herself moan; the devil was usually quiet when Lana was the one to give. Hearing herself like this made her feel vulnerable and self-conscious.

The brunette, on the other hand, didn't see any of Mary's insecurities, and continued to lap her center. All she saw was the lingerie-clad chest. Under the lacy fabric, a pair of erected nipples presented themselves by making two sharp mounds. 

Lana smirked and reached her chest with both hands, rolling the hard nipples under her fingertips.

Mary let out a breathy moan at this double sensation, and covered Lana's hands with her own. It was simply too much for her body when the older woman tortured her with her mouth and hands. Her hips had their own mind, grinding into Lana's expert mouth for more pleasure. Her body was on fire. 

She could feel the impending orgasm, and moved her hips even faster against the brunette.

It happened all too fast; the moment Lana's tongue was pressed to her sensitive bundle of nerves, her whole body shook violently. Mary let out a long moan as the orgasm took over her system. Her toes dug into the mattress, and her head was thrown back.

Lana never stopped her mouth while the blonde rode out her orgasm, making circles on her clit with the tip of her tongue. After the body stopped shaking above her, Lana rose up and met Mary's lips with hers. 

The saturated look of the blonde made her heart flatter a little, but she couldn't help but compare this one with many other nights she'd ever spent with the devil.

The blonde had never come so fast, not when the devil was inside her. And the devil loved giving orders. Lana would admit that she missed taking orders and pleasuring the blonde. 

It was still Mary. But it wasn't Mary she wanted. The brunette pretended a smile as the innocent girl gave her a soft kiss on the lips.

"I love you, Lana," the blonde whispered.

"I love you too," Lana said it back. 

But she was no longer sure if she really meant it.

... 

Lana pulled off the car and stepped outside, fumbling with the house key. 

It had been a stressful day for the journalist, and she sure was glad to isolate herself from the world for the day.

Stepping inside the house, she immediately noticed the difference in the atmosphere. The floor had been swept, the dust on the entry table had been cleaned off, and there were actual living flowers in the kitchen. The brunette blinked confusedly at the flower vase.

"How was your day, darling?"

Mary cheerfully walked to her lover, her front covered by an apron.

The older woman sighed. "Could've been better."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Lana," the blonde offered her an apologetic smile.

Lana only nodded in response; it was a sweet, caring comment, which the brunette wasn't so familiar with. The only occasions the devil showed such sweet expressions were when she was mocking Lana. The brunette would normally sneer at the mockery, but this one was sincere. And Lana didn't know how to response.

"I see you cleaned the house," the journalist changed the subject. "And the flowers...They are pretty."

Mary smiled proudly like a child. "I wanted us to have a romantic night. Candles, homemade dinner, flowers..." she giggled to conceal her bashfulness. "I know you've been busy, and I wanted to do something to make you relax for a moment."

She took Lana's hands and gave them a squeeze. It flattered Lana's heart yet again. Under the disguise of a warrior, the brunette had always been a princess who liked cheesy romance. The devil was all about sensuality; their idea of romantic nights almost solely existed in the bedroom.

For a hot second, Lana thought she could love the person in front of her. It might take some time, but there was a chance she could fall in love with the woman.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The dinner consisted of fancy French dishes that Lana had never heard of. The fact that the nun made them was quite impressive. For the five years of their relationship and living together, the brunette had only seen Mary cook once or maybe twice. The devil had always found a way to somehow get cooked meals for both of them. 

It was endearing to imagine that the blonde had gone through the trouble, even if it meant she'd had to bury herself in cook books up to her ears.

"I think red wine goes well with this, but do you prefer white?" 

"No, red is fine." Lana smiled in her chair as the blonde poured her a glass. The brown eyes scanned the table and noticed there was only one glass. "Aren't you going to drink?"

Mary shook her head. "No, Sister Jude always said that alcohol leads to sins."

The brunette looked at the other with her mouth agape, failing to hide her disbelief in her eyes. She genuinely hoped the blonde was joking, but the hope was swept away when the nun closed her eyes and started to pray in her seat.

"Dear Lord, thank you for this food. Bless it to our use and us to your service. And make us ever mindful of the needs of others. Through Christ our Lord we pray. Amen."

The pair of blue eyes innocently looked at the older woman, and Mary proceeded to eat as if nothing had happened.

On the opposite side of the table, Lana awkwardly chewed on the meat without so much enthusiasm. The food must have been great I her brain was working properly. But as though her tongue and brain were disconnected, the food in her mouth remained tasteless.

 

... 

 

Lana spread her limbs on the bed as she listened to the sound of water echoing from the bathroom. 

The blonde was taking a shower, and the journalist saw it as a good opportunity to spread her wings.

The dinner was charming, but also suffocating at the same time. It reminded her of the numerous blind dates that she'd had before Wendy. It was awkward, nothing to talk about now that the nun and the journalist shared so little in common.

A sigh escaped from her mouth. Her body tensed when she heard the bathroom door open, and the brunette curled up to make room for the other. 

The blonde crawled up on the bed and planted a soft kiss on the cheek of Lana, who was on her side facing the wall. The plump lips moved to Lana's neck, kissing as if handling a china.

It sent shivers to Lana's spine, not because of excitement, but for a different reason. If she was looking at the blonde, she could tell it was Mary who was kissing down her neck. But with her eyes fixed on the wall, the gentle kisses were the only thing Lana's brain registered. 

It made her feel like a stranger was making out with her.

"Not tonight, Mary." The older woman wiggled her shoulders to get away from the nun's lips. "I'm tired. I need sleep."

Mary pulled away immediately. "Okay, sleep tight, love," she whispered, lying down completely to be a big spoon. "Goodnight, Lana. I love you."

The brown eyes stared into space. The brunette could feel the other woman waiting for a reply.

"Goodnight, Mary."

She couldn't utter the latter phrase back. Her heart ached, and Lana cursed her inability to lie through her teeth.

 

... 

 

Lana woke up shaking from a nightmare. The alarm indicated it was still fairly early in the morning. The sun was barely touching the world outside the window. 

She felt gross. Even after years, Briarcliff still gave her nightmares.

Cautious not to disturb the sleeping blonde, she sneaked into the bathroom and begun to undress. The cold water helped to get rid of the unpleasant feelings off her skin. 

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a bath towel around her petite body. The material made her shoulders and collarbones visible, and Lana faltered when she looked in the mirror. 

The hickeys and bite marks the devil had left on her skin a few days ago were fading away. Some were almost completely healed, and some were bright yellow. 

Her body had never looked so _blank_. The devil had always made sure the brunette had some marks to remind them of their love making. Now there were disappearing.

Lana traced her fingers on a yellow bruise in her collarbone, and applied some pressure; but it didn't hurt anymore. Her body would have no trace of the devil in a couple days.

 

... 

 

Lana sat in front of her typewriter for hours like a tree. She had so much to say, and was so incompetent to put her thoughts into words. Classic writer's block, the brunette sighed. Her legs tapped irregularly with frustration, and she inhaled cigarette smoke to the every cell of her lungs. The radio on her desk played Beethoven. The depressive, yet passionate music mirrored the inner world of Lana.

Ripping yet another sheet of paper off the typewriter, she groaned. So caught up with her own thoughts that she didn't realize when the blonde came into the room.

Mary placed a cup of coffee on the desk, the other hand gently placed onto the brunette's shoulder. Her blue eyes smiled when she saw the startled look on the journalist.

"I didn't know you were home," Lana mumbled.

The blonde nodded. "Things went smoothly today."

The blue eyes scanned the desk, which was covered with numerous crumpled notes. They stopped at the ashtray, and Mary raised brows at the number of cigarette butts.

Lana looked at the ashtray and the nun back and forth rather confusedly. "What?" she asked, while remaining in her chair.

"You smoke too much. You know they are harmful to your body, Lana."

The journalist let out a puff of air. "You smoke as much as I do." She rolled her eyes in such a way that the nun could see it.

"No, I don't," Mary defended herself quickly, her voice remaining quiet and low. "The devil did. I don't smoke, Lana."

The older woman averted her eyes as she brought the cigarette to her mouth. It was awkward for both of them to talk about the devil, or rather their lives that no longer had the devil.

Sensing the silence between them, Mary sought another thing to talk about. Her eyes swam through the mess that was Lana's work room. The brunette wasn't one to care about tidiness. The things were never put away to where they came from, and God knows they had quarreled many times over something Lana couldn't find.

Sighing quietly, Mary's eyes shifted to the woman in the chair. Her brows furrowed slightly at the sight of Lana's left forearm.

"You are writing on your skin again," Mary said in undertone, her fingers wrapped around the brunette's limb. The vast majority of the inner forearm was covered in black ink. The blonde's eyes traced the wiggly lines that only the journalist could decipher. "You will get ink poisoning, you know that."

However, Lana remained silent. Her face showed no sign of replying. 

It was unfair to the nun, but her kindness only got on Lana's nerves. She was supposed to be living with her lover, not with her mother. The brunette sighed rather loudly and pulled her arm from Mary's grip. The other hand brought the cigarette to her lips yet again, and she exhaled the smoke to the typewriter and the blank paper.

"I need to be left alone, please," she asked while her eyes saw anything but the nun.

Mary opened her mouth to say something, but decided to against it. Once the brunette built a barrier, it was almost impossible to break it down. For a while she waited for the older woman to look at her, but Lana seemed preoccupied with the ashes on her lap.

Dejected, the blonde walked out of the room, but she turned around at the door. Her hands griped on the edge of the wooden door as if to grasp a straw.

"Do you- do you want me to get you when the dinner is ready?"

Lana turned her head hesitantly, still trying to avoid eye contact. She contemplated on her options. It would be a lie to say she wasn't hungry, but having dinner with the nun meant having to listen to her prayer. It was definitely a habit the brunette could never get used to.

"I'm really busy right now, so I'll pass. Sorry."

Mary gave her a nod in understanding, though looking disappointed. "Okay," she uttered before disappearing to the kitchen in order to prepare dinner for one.

 

... 

 

A couple hours later, Lana rubbed her eyes and finally stood up from her beloved chair. Her brain didn't speak to her at all as opposed to her stomach, which wouldn't stop complaining. She might as well satisfy her hunger and maybe drink ten more cups of coffee.

Walking into the kitchen, she noticed the blonde on the living room couch. Her golden hair was wet after a shower, and she was reading in her newly purchased pajamas. The baby blue eyes moved to the brunette, who stood sheepishly by the fridge.

"Hi." Mary offered her a genuine, warm smile.

"Hi," Lana replied, but her version of a smile was visibly forced. "I was going to eat something." Her nails scratched the scalp under the brown hair in discomfort.

The nun jumped off the couch and waltzed to the woman. "I made alfredo. Let me heat it up for you." She took out a tapper wear and fixed Lana a plate.

The brunette murmured a thank you while Mary put the plate in the microwave.

Failing to tolerate the silence beside the noise of the appliance, the blonde bit her lip nervously. She was very much aware of the tension between them, she might be naïve, but not stupid. It was apparent the journalist felt uncomfortable around her. 

_She needs more time_ , the nun convinced herself.

"So how's your writing going?" the blonde asked, trying to make a crack in the wall Lana had built.

The older woman sighed. "Terrible. Nothing is coming up. My words seem like the purest bullshit. Everything I try to put on paper just vanishes as soon as my fingers start trying. You'd wonder if the first book was a pure luck."

She let out all the frustration. She felt angry with herself, possible for more than one reason. Her writing was shitty for sure, and she had the nun to deal with on the other hand. The phrase 'when it rains, it pours" described her situation perfectly.

The blonde listened to her ramble patiently and sympathetically. "I'm sorry to hear that, Lana. But you are a talented writer. I know you are. Just because you can't write right now doesn't mean you are a bad writer. You shouldn't push yourself so hard. You know Lord has everything planned for us. Be patient and you'll find your words again."

Lana's eyes were filled with disbelief and repulsion. The speech started off endearing, and now the blonde was talking about Jesus Christ? Waves of rage rapidly surged from deep in her stomach, and before she could help it, Lana was baring her teeth.

"Fucking Christ, Mary. You can't help but make everything about Jesus, can you?" Her voice was horse from all the pent-up frustration. "What the fuck do you know about writing anyway? You are just an ordinary nun. All you're good at is talking to some dude that died centuries ago. I very much appreciate if you mind your own business."

In defense of Lana, this was how she argued with the devil. Both of them would try to drag each other down by provocation. It was their way of communication to be bitter over each other. Most of the times, the devil had the last word, but sometimes she let the brunette win. So, it was practically woven into her instincts for Lana to act the way she'd done.

Nonetheless, it was a huge mistake.

Mary was on the verge of crying, and tried her hardest to hide the tearful eyes from the other. Her white knuckles were shaking on the kitchen counter from desperately holding the dam. A single drop fell through her eyelashes and made a small puddle on the back of her hand.

Feeling a ridiculous amount of guilt, the brunette sought words of comfort. But her brain was as useless as ever, and before she could find any words, a loud beep of the microwave interrupted her thought.

The nun quickly took the plate out and handed it to the shorter woman, her eyes avoiding Lana's. She didn't say anything as she ran off, sniffing sounds echoing in the hallway.

Lana exhaled loudly. As guilty as she felt, she couldn't help feeling weird to see her tears. How many years ago was that she had last seen Mary cry? It was only one time, when an inmate at Briarcliff threw his waste to her face. The brunette was no better than the shitty inmate for making the weak, young nun cry. And Lana felt even shittier for missing arguments with the devil at the same time.

 

...

 

The room was dim. No lights were on and yet there was some kind of phosphorous light surrounding them.

A breathy moan echoed in the room. Mary perched herself on the living room couch, her golden hair thrown over the back of the furniture. Another moan escaped from her mouth. She rocked her hips rhythmically while her brunette lover worked hard between her legs. Her hands in Lana's dark hair tightened their grips as she let out a sigh of pleasure.

"Bite me," Mary commanded softly.

Her breath hitched a moment later when she felt teeth scraping her skin on her inner thigh. Two more bites were given on her hipbone, and the blonde whimpered quietly. It seemed to have encouraged the brunette, and Lana's grips on the nun's hips tightened. Her teeth attacked Mary's porcelain skin relentlessly.

Mary pulled the brunette's hair sharply, causing her to let out a yelp. With her chest heaving, the blonde brought Lana's face to hers and crashed their lips. The kiss tasted like cigarette, wine, and sex. The blonde smirked as her tongue played with Lana's, her fingers combing through the brunette hair.

Separating their lips, Mary gently pushed Lana's head, silently demanding her to get back between her legs. Her hips jolted when Lana's tongue met her sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Harder," the blonde sighed out.

She let out a loud groan at the stronger pressure on her core, her hips bucking more frantically. The journalist certainly knew how Mary liked to be pleased. Every touch and kiss was administered precisely and effectively, making the nun squirm with unbearable pleasure. But it didn't stop the blonde from giving orders. Even when she was the one to be pleased, Mary Eunice still liked to be the dominant one. The sense of power and control was something she would never yield.

"I need you inside me," she whispered as she breathed cautiously.

Her body was desperate for release, but she couldn't show that to the older woman, though Lana was obviously aware of her state.

With her tongue still on her clit, Lana slowly entered her with a finger. Mary's walls were tight around her digit, and both of them breathed out at the feeling. It didn't take long before the blonde commanded her to add another finger.

"Don't you dare-- fuck... stop..."

A string of quiet whimpers escaped through her parted lips as expert fingers massaged her walls. Her legs shook with an onset of orgasm coursing through her body. She needed more, something to push her over the edge.

"Bite me," Mary ordered.

And the moment Lana's teeth nibbled on her swollen clit, she let out a loud moan.

Her own moan caused her to open her eyes. But there wasn't Lana, nor was she on the couch. She was breathing heavily in the bed. Mary groaned from frustration. She was close, so so close. And then her brain decided to wake up from the deliciously sensual dream. The evidence of arousal presented itself between her thighs, and it made Mary think how long it had been since the last time she and her lover had shared intimacy.

They still talked, but it seemed like the journalist wanted to keep distance from the nun. It became Mary's usual to have supper alone while the brunette locked herself in her office. It wasn't rare anymore for Lana to sleep in her office, too. Not seeing each other gave them a false sense that everything was still okay. Of course, it was far from the truth.

Mary checked if her lover was in the bed tonight; she was. With her inked arm thrown over her stomach, Lana slept peacefully. Maybe she was having a happy dream, because she was smiling in her sleep. Mary observed her face, wondering what was making her smile like that. She hoped it was herself in the dream, although she very much doubted it.

 

... 

 

"Lana, we need to talk."

One Saturday afternoon, the blonde caught the older woman rummaging through the fridge for food.

It had been several days without them talking to each other, and Mary desperately needed a solution. She could feel on her skin that the heart of the journalist was becoming more distant by the day.

Lana glanced over the blonde awkwardly. "...Can this wait? I have a meeting with my editor tonight. It'd be great if we could talk when I come back."

"When will you be home?"

"I don't know," the brunette shrugged. Her eyes anywhere but on Mary. "Whenever we finished talking about what's necessary."

The younger woman sighed, nodding to her girlfriend. She swallowed in nervousness, and realized her palms were sweaty. Talking to the brunette nowadays made her tense. She feared that if she said something wrong, Lana would bite her head off again. A risk she couldn't take. Her heart wouldn't be able to bare another heartbreak like that.

"I'll be waiting," Mary said in a weak voice.

Another sigh escaped as she watched Lana go back to her office with a plate of chicken the nun had made the other night. She knew it was going to be a long night.

  
... 

 

Mary sat in the couch with a half-read book in her lap. It was past eleven, and the journalist hadn't come back from the meeting yet.

It had crossed her mind a few times that the older woman might be lying and in fact seeing another woman, but Mary knew better to dismiss the thought. As hostile as she could be, Lana could never break someone's heart like that.

A few hours passed, and the blonde stretched her limbs after finishing the book. Although she was a fast reader, Mary didn't expect to finish it before the brunette comes home.

Looking at the ceiling, she let her body sink into the couch. Her brain and body craved for sleep, but she was so determined to wait for the other. So she kept her eyes open, just like a child trying to stay awake for her parent to be home.

It was unclear how long it had been, but when a sound of the front door creaking open reached her ears, Mary realized she'd fallen asleep. Swiftly lifting her body from the couch, she turned to the door, seeing the brunette fall on the floor.

Lana was a drunk mess, her hair was messy, her eyes were barely open, and she was trying to take her heels off, but in vain.

The blonde walked to the other woman, frowning deeply at the abrasive smell of alcohol.

"Lana, stand up," she grabbed the woman by the arm and helped her up.

The brunette groaned in protest, but was too helpless to resist the arm of Mary. Once she was on her feet, giggles fell from her mouth. She wrapped her arms around Mary's neck, bringing their bodies closer.

"Hey, gorgeous," Lana whispered in Mary's ear.

Her lips couldn't contain giggles when she felt the blonde shivered in her arms. Her teeth playfully caught her earlobe between them, causing the younger woman's body to tense.

"Lana..." 

Her knees went weak at the raw sensation on her skin. And God, Lana's lips and tongue felt like heaven, even though they tasted like whiskey. Mary moaned in her mouth, feeling the growing heat in her lower belly.

It'd be a lie to say she didn't enjoy this. Her hope to have a serious conversation with the brunette vanished when she'd seen the intoxicated state of her. She might as well take this opportunity and be loved by the brunette.

But then again, their situation would become more awkward and unpleasant if she let this happen.

So, Mary gathered all of her self-control and ripped Lana's body off her.

"You're drunk."

Lana let out a giggle, her cheeks painted pink. Her arms wrapped Mary's waist yet again, while her mouth planted sloppy kisses on her neck.

The nun tried to keep her moans, but the attempt failed miserably when Lana's tongue traced her collarbone.

The brunette shifted her lips to Mary's and kissed her, earning a moan from the taller woman. She backed the blonde against the wall, her hands gripping the petite waist of Mary.

"Lana... Wait..." Mary pushed her hands against Lana's heaving chest, keeping their lips separated.

But the brunette only smirked at the blonde. "Why? You don't want me to fuck you?" Lana sneaked her leg between Mary's thighs, and started to rock her hips slowly. "You don't want to feel my lips around your nipples?" Her tongue dancing smoothly with Mary's. "Don't you want me to lick your pussy, baby?"

The younger woman squirmed at the taunting words and the leg between her thighs, but the vulgar word in the last sentence caused her to sober up.

"Lana, stop this. You're drunk. I don't want it when you're drunk." She shook her head while her eyes were trained on the brunette's face.

Lana pursed her lips, still insistent with her mouth and hands. "Come on, I want you so bad. I'm soaking wet for you, Mary."

"No, Lana. I said no." The nun shook her head again. "Come on, it's late. Let's get you to bed."

The blonde led the pouting woman to the bedroom, careful not to let her stumbling feet trip over nothing.

Lana fell on the mattress with a thud, while the blonde lay next to her in a more civilized manner.

"I'm not sleepy," Lana protested with half-closed eyes.

"I know, but you have to sleep."

Silence filled the room, and Mary decided that it was time she'd gone to sleep, too.

"Mary?"

The voice of the brunette caused her to open her eyes. "Yes?"

Lana's hand reached for Mary's in the dark. "I miss you." 

Mary's heart swelled. The brunette was especially honest when drunk. So this must be her true feeling, right? Lana must want to fix this between them as much as the blonde did.

Mary squeezed the hand in assurance. "I miss y–"

"Where did you go?"

The words on Mary's tongue froze, and so did the air in her lungs.

_What does she mean?_

Her heart was screaming and crying for the answer. But deep down, she knew already, what Lana exactly meant.

_Where did you go? Where did the person I loved for so long go? Where is the devil I fell in love with? Where is the woman that isn't you?_

So, this was her honest feeling. All the goddamn time, the brunette was searching for the devil.

How stupid of Mary, to believe even a small fracture of Lana's soul loved her, too. No, she loved the devil and the devil only. There had never been room for the innocent, naïve nun in the first place.

Covering her mouth with a hand, Mary ran to the bathroom. The truth that she'd been afraid of hit her hard, and she couldn't even cry freely.

What really hurt her was the fact that Lana probably wouldn't remember any of this. Should she act as if nothing had happened or what? Mary had no idea.

The only solution she could think of was to pray to God. But what was there to believe in, when her heart had been shattered in complete pieces?  
  



	3. Chapter 3

She was tired of crying. Blood-shot eyes and runny nose never looked good on her. But no matter how hard she tried, tears found their way to her eyes. She had no idea what to do with her own crying. The devil never shed a tear.

Mary sniffed for the thousandth time today as she sat among piles of clothes on the floor. The sun was cascading a thin trail of light on her face, highlighting her gleaming eyes. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. A sigh escaped from between her lips without her realizing. 

The image from a couple nights ago returned to her mind yet again, and the blonde breathed her sobs in.

Lana's fingers laced with hers. The darkness surrounding them. The smell of alcohol. _Where did you go?_  Lana's lips. The sound of her giggles.  _Where did you go?_  The warmth of her body.  _Where did you go?_

Her vision blurred, although her memory was as clear as ever. She knew it didn't help her in any way to dwell on the past. The moment Lana had shed a tear in search of the devil, everything they had built together collapsed to ashes. 

There was nothing left between them besides this tension that was driving both of them insane.

The blonde shut her eyes and felt tears rolling down her cheeks. Berating herself, she went back to her original task. There were so many old clothes that neither of the women wore any more. 

Moments like this used to make Mary smile at how far they had come for the last five years together. As the brunette had told her once, things change and people change. But even those changes were treasurable for Mary if it meant spending her life with Lana. Well, at least until recently.

Taking a breath, Mary went back to the drawers to put clothes back in. her brows furrowed slightly when something in the hidden part of the drawer touched her hand. 

Curious, she grabbed the object, which turned out to be a plain black velvet rectangular box. Perplexed expression on her face, but she soon realized what it was.

...

Sitting alone in the living room, the blonde made herself comfortable on the couch, her hand holding a thick book and the other a cigarette. She exhaled the toxic chemicals as her fingers turned the page. 

The glass of red wine on the coffee table was almost empty, although the devil was way far from drunk.

Caught up with the enticing story of a young woman during the civil war, her usual swift mind failed to register the sound of the front door swinging open. 

It wasn't until the brunette walked to her and planted a soft kiss on the top of her head that the blonde noticed Lana's presence.

"Hello, my housemate." Mary gave the other a grin. 

It was a title that the journalist had asked Mary to use in public. The nun wasn't so excited about the request, and occasionally she used it just to mock or spite her lover.

Lana simply rolled her eyes, a small smile tagging at the corner of her mouth. "You are up late."

"And you are home late. You said you'd be back by midnight."

"I said I might. It's not my fault that you never listen."

"Lana."

The pair of black eyes bored into the blue ones shining. A regular peasant would die from terror with just that look, but it was Lana, who was accustomed to the devil's tactics more than anyone in any realms. 

The journalist offered a smile, before sitting herself on the coffee table, careful not to knock the glass over.

"I bought you something."

The blonde raised a brow, but didn't say anything. Her eyes shone golden as she observed the black box in the brunette's hands. 

Inside was a pair of pearl earrings, as white as an angel's glowing wings. Mary shifted her gaze to the woman before her, who was uncharacteristically looking coy. A single sigh escaped from the nun's mouth, and she leaned back against the back of the couch.

"I'm hugely disappointed, Miss Banana. I thought you knew about me better than that. I'm not a pearl type of girl. I'm quite confident Arthur could've figured that out."

Lana rolled her eyes at the mention of the sadistic scientist who was very much fond of the nun. 

"I know, Mary." She took one of the earrings and brought it in front of the devil's face. "But look at them. They match your porcelain complexion."

"Of course, they do." Mary snorted. "But there's no way I'm wearing them."

"Fine." Lana shrugged. 

The reaction of the nun was totally expected. It hadn't stopped her from getting the earrings though. 

"But they are yours now. Do whatever you want. I don't care."

The brunette leaned in to give her lover a peck on the lips, before she retreated to the bedroom.

... 

Mary bit her bottom lip in recollection. She hated the devil for having treated Lana like that, but was actually thankful that the devil hadn't thrown the gift away.

The pair of pearls looked more gorgeous and sparkly than she remembered. Perhaps, the devil's eyes made everything look inferior. 

Mary softly touched one of them with her fingertip, afraid it might break with the slightest pressure. Walking to the vanity with the box in her hand, the blonde put them on carefully with her shaking hands.

 _Lana was right_ , she mused. 

The pearls accentuated her porcelain skin of her face, and in return, the pinkness of her cheeks made a beautiful contrast to the whiteness of the earrings. Though still humble, Mary imagined showing this to her lover.

How would she react? Would she tell her that she's beautiful? Would she be happy that the blonde actually wore them?

So many optimistic possibilities occupied her mind, and Mary realized a dorky smile of her in the mirror. 

But  _wait_. Her smile dropped.

Lana had bought them when the nun and the devil cohabited in the body. The devil was the one that the brunette was in love with. The brunette solely thought of the devil when purchasing the gift.

The nun had no right to wear them. They were not hers.

Nothing Lana had ever given her was hers.

... 

_I can hear the soft breathing_

_Of the girl that I love,_

_As she lies here beside me_

_Asleep with the night,_

_And her hair, in a fine mist_

_Floats on my pillow,_

_Reflecting the glow_

_Of the winter moonlight._

The calm voices of Simon and Garfunkel filled the room, while Lana stared at the cigarette-stained ceiling. How long had she been doing this, she had no clue.

What she did know, however, was that the sweet song on the radio had been released in 1964, the same year the journalist had gone to the asylum and consequently gotten trapped in. 

It was only after the brunette had shot Bloody Face and given Wendy a sad excuse of a tomb did she discover the song.

The lyrics used to remind her of Wendy, though she and Mary had already been in a relationship. But as time passed, the shadow of her dead lover gradually disappeared, leaving Lana alone with the toxic presence of the blonde nun. 

Lana wondered if this was how all love ends. People don't completely fall out of love, but they forget about their loved ones progressively, until they can't remember the faces of the people once they swore to protect with their lives.

Right now, the song still reminded her of Mary, with her silky blonde hair hidden underneath the coif. But there was no guarantee that someday, another person would replace the blonde, and the song would no longer be about her.

Perhaps that was the best option left for both of them. The morning after the brunette had come home drunk, Mary was acting rather strange in her presence. Although she couldn't remember anything, she could gather as much to guess something had happened.

Perhaps this was the end. If so, let it be.

Her mind came back to the reality when the radio started playing jazz. Her head hurt, probably from dehydration. She shouldn't have drunken so much coffee. 

Lana let out a sigh and stood up, dragging her feet to the kitchen to get more coffee.

The feet stopped at the sight of the blonde, standing by the stove in a white apron. Their eyes locked for a second, before awkwardly looking away, brown eyes on the floor, and the blue ones on the pan of soup. 

The deafening silence was something they had gotten used to between them, but it didn't mean it was painless.

With an empty cup in her hands, Lana decided she'd be the one to break the stifling air.

"Something smells great." She forced a smile and came closer to the taller woman. "Are you making the chicken soup?"

Mary gave her a small nod. "But I'm trying a different recipe," she answered in a whisper. "Do you want to try it? I could use a second opinion."

"Oh, sure." 

Lana's smile got slightly bigger at the request. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she closed the gap between the blonde.

The nun held a spoonful of the soup to the mouth of the shorter woman, her other hand below the spoon so it wouldn't spill on the floor. The ocean blue eyes were trained on the other's face, particularly on the mouth slightly open to welcome the incoming spoon. 

Mary swallowed hard, confused as to why such a simple action of the other could cause heat in her lower belly.

The plump lips took the spoon between them, and Lana relished the succulent savor on her tongue. Her eyes shut, she paid little to no attention to the sounds she was making. 

They sounded like moans, which went straight to Mary's core.

Before she knew what she was doing, the nun removed the spoon from her mouth and replaced it with her own lips. 

She kissed the brunette like she was the only source of life, her hands cupping Lana's cheeks. The warmth of her tongue, the taste of the soup, the nasal moans of her lover, everything was intoxicating, and Mary realized how much she had missed the woman.

The hands of the journalist gripped the other's slender waist, backing her against the dining table. She was as desperate for whatever this was as Mary. 

It had been too long since the last time they had even kissed. The soapy scent of the nun remained unfamiliar to Lana, but somehow it was driving her crazy with desire. 

Lana's mouth travelled to her ear, kissing and sucking the skin below it.

But Mary let out a whimper, and it broke the spell that neither of them noticed they were under.

The shorter woman pulled back, looking at the nun with slight confusion. The hooded eyes as shiny as the autumn sky were boring into the chocolate orbs. 

It was only a couple seconds, but to Lana, it felt like eternity until she finally realized it was  _just Mary_. 

She felt ashamed, guilty, and angry all at the same time.

"Sorry," she mumbled, ripping their bodies apart.

"...Don't be," Mary whispered with an equal amount of disappointment. 

She breathed in, attempting to get rid of the taste of the brunette on her lips. Turning her head around, she reached for the box placed on the table.

"This." The blonde held it out to Lana. "Take this."

"What is it?"

"Open it."

With an apprehensive look, the shorter woman reluctantly took the box before opening it to see the inside. Her lips parted, her eyes looking at the blonde and the earrings back and forth. 

"You kept them?" she asked quietly.

"The devil--" Mary's voice hitched a little. A pathetic smile on her face. "The devil kept them." Her eyes watched Lana look down with shame and guilt. "They don't belong to me, so... You can throw them away, keep them, or give them away. They are yours now. You decide what you do with them."

The brunette bit her lip, taking air in from her nose before breathing it out. 

"Okay..." She nodded.

Mary's eyes never left her lover as the shorter woman begun to go back to her office. Her vision was getting blurry by the second, and she could feel their souls growing apart at a rapid speed.

"Lana," she choked out. 

If this was the end, she might as well spit everything out.

The brunette span around, her eyes filled with despair and anger towards the fate. And Mary thought, she could see the same emotions in the blonde too.

"Did you-- did you think Satan was capable of love? It was  _me_  who loved you. My hands might have been controlled by the devil, but it was me who said I love you every time I held you in these arms."

Neither of them spoke after that. The kitchen was simply filled with wrathful sorrow and Mary's occasional sniffling.

In Lana's office, the radio was playing a love song about two people who are destined to be together.

...

The church bell rang somewhere above the blonde nun, indicating she had been sitting here longer than she had originally planned. 

She had come to God for salvation, any sign of relief from this torment that she was going through. Her mouth repeated the same payers over and over again, until she didn't even have to think to move her mouth.

She hadn't spoken to the brunette ever since the night before, when she had finally seen the end of the road. Her heart physically hurt. It didn't feel like someone was squeezing the heart though. It felt like someone was pinching the every blood vessel around the heart, giving her a constant sharp pain in the chest. 

How odd was that. It was as if her body was trying to find another outlet, because she could no longer shed a tear.

Mary bit her lip and bowed her head, not realizing someone approaching where she sat.

The sound of shoes stopped only a couple of feet away from the blonde. And it took some time for Mary to feel the gaze on herself, but when she looked up, there was a young boy in his late teens. He stood with his eyes on the nun, a blank expression on his face. 

"Something is troubling you, sister," the boy spoke quietly. "Is there anything I can do?"

The nun offered him a gentle smile, but shook her head. "I don't think so, but–"

"But your heart tells me otherwise," the boy stated, causing Mary to shut up. "You miss her."

The blonde's eyes flew to the boy. "I beg your pardon?" 

Her heart started to beat a little faster.  _How did he know it's a she?_

"Your precious Miss Lana Banana."

Shivers run through Mary's spine. And she realized the glow in his eyes weren't the reflection of the light coming though the stained glass. It was the color of his eyes.

"I have what you need." His mouth formed a lop-sided smirk, while his eyes flickered golden. "Say, Mary, what would you give to have your Lana back?"

...

Lana looked out the window of her office with a cup of coffee in her hands. 

The voice of her blonde lover had been the main occupant of her mind that afternoon, playing the scene from the night before on repeat like a broken radio.

Mary had a point, she had to admit. Her narcissistic tendency had led her to believe she had made the devil fall for her, not minding the fact that there was also a girl inside the body.

Taking a sip from the mug cup, her brown eyes scanned the garden under the window. There were so many plants and flowers in their little garden; scratch that, it was Mary's garden. 

The blonde had a passion for plants. Every year, a new type of flowers was planted to mark their anniversary. The garden had roses of many colors, white and red carnations, yellow and red tulips, and anemones. 

Lana herself wasn't so familiar with flowers and plants, so even though the blonde had told her what those flowers meant, she just couldn't remember. One thing she knew was that all of them symbolized love.

Was it the devil who loved gardening, or was it Mary Eunice? Lana must confess she had been surprised and confused the first time the blonde had shown an infatuation for such a thing. It was simply hard to imagine the devil loving something of the earth, except for the brunette herself, but even that had been proven wrong. 

Perhaps, it had been the girl who loved everything all the time and the devil was merely an embodiment of desire.

Her brows were knotted together, her teeth biting the one place of her bottom lip. And suddenly, something struck her, and Lana almost run to her purse for her notepad. 

The slim fingers turning pages, and there it was. Red circles around today's date. Things had been so hectic it was easy to forget, or ignore, their anniversary.

Was it too late to make it right? Lana walked to the window and stared at the flowers. 

If the one that had always tended to the garden was the innocent nun instead of the devil, Lana had a reason to fight for this love. She just couldn't imagine her life without the other.

... 

The brunette hummed to the soft music while anxiously waiting for the blonde to come home. It was when she finished setting up the table that the door swung open and her lover walked in.

The heels of Mary's shoes made clicking sounds as she made her way further in the house. Her eyes observed the flowers on the dining table before settling on the brunette, who stood nervously.

"Hi." Lana offered her a coy smile. Waving at the table, she figured an explanation was needed. "I just... realized it was our anniversary, so..."

But the nun didn't give her a response. While her eyes were trained on the brunette, she raised an eyebrow to beckon the other.

Lana bit her lip. Taking a deep breath, she repeated the speech she had prepared. "I've been thinking about us a lot, what you said to me last night. And..." She shook her head. "I've been an asshole. I'm sorry. It's just... It feels so bizarre, the whole thing? I'm still–" 

Seeing herself just making an excuse, she cleared her throat, chiding herself internally. The brown eyes bored into the blue ones once again. 

"I want you to stay here, with me. I want us to start this over again. You are a great person, Mary. And I think I can love you as much as you love me. No Satan. Just Mary Eunice McKee."

She grabbed the box from the table and opened it for the other, the pearls shining faintly under the dim light. 

"I want to see you wear them, if you'd like, that is."

A larger smile appeared on the brunette's face when the blonde took the box from her. But her eyes lost their sparks as she watched Mary sigh and put it back down on the table.

"You never learn, do you, Miss Banana?" Mary tilted her head. 

It was barely a whisper, but still full of disappointment and disdain.

Lana looked at her, hurt, and her lungs seemed to have stopped functioning as the taller woman pushed her against the wall. One hand on her waist, and the other flat against the wall, leaning in to the brunette.

"Next time, bring me rubies," Mary whispered in her ear. 

Lana trembled at the cold feeling through her spine, and when the blonde pulled back, their eyes met. The journalist watched Mary's face with her mouth agape, and she could feel hot liquid filling her eyes. 

"Ones that match the blood in your veins," the blonde uttered.

Lana couldn't find her voice, nor could she avert her eyes from the blonde. So she weakly shook her head, hoping her eyes would convey her indescribable emotions.

The blonde's cold hand moved from the wall to under Lana's shirt. Feeling goosebumps on her fingertips, Mary kept staring into the dark abyss of the brunette's eyes.

"Why are you crying?"

Mary asked almost inaudibly, her nails scratching the stomach, leaving angry red lines that would soon disappear.

... 

" _Anything. But not to you," the nun answered to the boy firmly. "You bring so much pain to her."_

" _Touché," the devil shrugged as Mary stood up and walked away from him. "She will love you," he said to her back. "She will spend her whole life with you."_

_The blonde turned around to look at him, who stood under the cross of Jesus Christ._

_There was some kind of a glow around him that Mary had so long desired. And it reminded her why she had eventually accepted the devil._

_It was power. It meant no fear and no pain. It was everything in the world and the universe._

_As if he could read her mind (he definitely could), a smirk appeared on his mouth. The blonde was nothing but a powerless rabbit trembling in front of a lion._

_"But she will always be searching for me."_

_And the claws finally caught the rabbit._

_Mary stood there paralyzed, cursing the sadistic monster before her. But nobody knew how true it was than herself. She had seen the way her brunette lover smiled at her; Lana would never smile at her the same way she_ _ever had at the devil._

_The white fur of the rabbit was slowly turning into crimson red._

_She bit her lip to hold her sobs. Feeling tears roll down her cheek, she glared at the gold eyes looking back at her._

... 

Her nails scratched Lana's stomach again. The brunette heard herself whimper in pain, terror, or perhaps something bitterer.

"Why are you crying?" the blonde whispered one more time.

Lana cried silently, her vision unclear, but never blurry enough to miss the tears in the golden eyes of her lover.

... 

" _ **You mean to tell me you're mourning the loss of someone who never existed?**_

―  _Taylor Nadeau, The Death of Edwin Hubble_

**~END~**


End file.
